


Well I Wonder

by t_mesinine



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Space Metaphors, good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_mesinine/pseuds/t_mesinine
Summary: Aziraphale doesn't get discorporated. Instead, he finds an empty thermos, a puddle of holy water, and the remains of a demon in Crowley's apartment."I killed my best friend," he whispers, pale blue eyes holding enough unrequited love for an entire universe.(Inspired by @corellon-grace's text post on tumblr.)





	Well I Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt came across me in a dark alleyway known as tumblr and took my lunch money and will to live. Enjoy.

Aziraphale is running. London is in chaos around him, but he doesn’t even notice. Sirens howl in the distance. He doesn’t know which are real and which are in his mind. His heart is beating in tandem with his steps on the slippery pavement. Rain is beating down his ivory puff of hair.

He skids to a stop outside Crowley’s apartment. The door has been crushed off the hinges, lying in the hallway. He leaps over it.

“Crowley!” He runs inside, tears open a door to his office, and-

His flask is on the desk. Opened. And on the floor, right in front of his feet is a puddle of water. There’s a dark mass floating right beside his feet, and he stops.

His breathing, his thoughts, his heartbeat.

They all stop.

For a second he stands there, and then his hands start to violently shake. He’s not thinking, and he collapses in on himself, crumbling to the floor. His fingers grasp the remains of the black mass, but it slips between his fingers. He tries again and again, but his hands are shaking too much now, his vision is blurred-

Lonely tears fall and splash into the pool of remains on the floor. Aziraphale curls up into a ball and weeps. His wings free themselves of their own accord and cover his quivering body, as if hoping to muffle, to protect him from the outside world. There wasn’t one left for him anymore. Not without Crowley.

He gives up trying to grasp the demon’s remains, instead digging his fingers into his arms so hard that bruises form.

“I killed you. I killed my best friend.” he whispers, blue eyes holding enough unrequited love for an entire universe. A universe, filled with beautiful gleaming stars, surrounded by odd planets, all fitted within one extraordinary demon. A demon he is never going to see again.

Armageddon may destroy everything now, for Aziraphale’s entire world has already died.

....

Aziraphale heads to Saint James Park. This was the place where they’d been meeting for centuries. The park is nearly empty, and all who take one look at his face leave as fast as possible. He doesn’t know what they see there. He’s not sure if he wants to know, himself.

Aziraphale spots the place by the railing where they’d first had their argument about holy water. He imagines their conversation again, this time without the quarrel, the eighty year separation, the sheer heartache.

He’s had so much time to tell Crowley he loved him. And he’s wasted all of it. He imagines going back in time, however much he’d be given. And he’d see Crowley again. Aziraphale would take his face between his hands, brush his thumbs against his cheekbones and tell him how much he loved him. He’d make sure the demon knew, every waking moment of his life, exactly how valued he was. And then maybe everything would be alright.

But he’s never going to get to do that. That time has passed. His eyes blur again and he grips the railing. Two tears fall into the pond. He can’t cry anymore. He turns and sees-

A dark figure. Red hair. Sunglasses.

Aziraphale can’t process this. He stumbles over himself and almost falls. The figure turns half his way and-

His heart skips a beat and before he can think, he runs-

He collides and it is Crowley, catching him, holding him so tight, never letting go. Aziraphale runs his fingers over his face, his hair, brushing spare locks stuck to his face from his eyes. Crowley’s sunglasses are somewhere on the ground around them, and Aziraphale can see the depth of grief hallowing in his yellow eyes. Crowley’s entire body trembles and he pulls Aziraphale close, resting his head on his angel’s chest, and suddenly he’s crying, shivering, digging his fingers into Aziraphale’s back. Aziraphale winds one arm around the small of Crowley’s back and rests the other in his hair, massaging the back of his head. He leans down and places a chaste kiss in his hair.

“I love you so much,” he mutters, and Crowley shakes harder, embracing him. Aziraphale places another kiss on his forehead, gently tilting Crowley’s head upward.

“I love you,” he says, meeting his eyes, and _oh,_ his heart breaks. He kisses the skin below his right eye, where a tear gleams.

He never wants to see Crowley like this again. He kisses the corner of his mouth. Crowley is real and alive and breathing against him, perfectly solid and safe, and Aziraphale’s world uncrumbles and fits back together, around the centre, the single glimmering star that has been locked into orbit with him for 6000 years. Alpha Centauri. A perfect 4:3 orbit.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he wants to say, but Crowley has grasped his face, resting his forehead against his own. He can see deep into those beautiful golden eyes. He never wants to look at anything else ever again. Crowley’s lips brush his own as he whispers,

“I missed you,” and his voice breaks again, stray tears flowing. He wants to wipe them away, but Crowley seizes him, locks him in with a quiet kiss, tilting his head, fingers brushing the skin beneath his ears.

They’re both going to be alright.


End file.
